


As It Seems

by ussgallifrey



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Flirting, Past Relationship(s), Reunions, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:49:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23725597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ussgallifrey/pseuds/ussgallifrey
Summary: They say you never forget your first love.
Relationships: Sam Wilson (Marvel)/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 18





	As It Seems

**Author's Note:**

> Somehow, watching _Endings, Beginnings_ today made me want to write a story for _Sam_ , of all people. Because… reasons. Title inspired by “Dreams” by The Cranberries.

Sometimes the most extraordinary things happen in the most mundane places. For example, the cereal aisle - somewhere between the Frosted Mini-Wheats and the limited time offer Jolly Rancher cereal. Seriously, when did that even become an option? What moderately sane person requires _that_ to start their day? 

But that’s the thing, that right there is rather extraordinary. Maybe not earth-shattering in the same sense as a life-changing moment. But it’s something, worthy enough of pausing your shopping to stare at the brightly colored box of mind-numbing flavor combinations.

A single moment can change everything though.

One minute you’re scrolling through your shopping list and the next you’re hearing your name in the middle of the cereal aisle.

There’s a pause between the words being spoken and your brain fully establishing that _yes_ , in fact, that is _your name_ being called by someone who sounds surprised to have found you here of all places.

And when you turn to confront the man - because that voice had to be coming from someone with at least some testosterone coursing through their veins - it takes another moment for the facial recognition to kick in. Fluorescent lighting and color-popping breakfast products can affect that sort of thing, you know. 

And so, he says it again. Basket in one hand, the beginnings of a smirk playing at his lips. It must be the beard and the baseball hat throwing you through a loop because you just don’t recognize this handsome stranger standing in front of you - fully blocking the aisle from the impatient nana behind him.

But sometimes, the most extraordinary things can occur in a place like this. Running into your high school boyfriend is the least likely of those possibilities, but not impossible, apparently. Because here stands - 

“ _Sam Wilson._ ”

\- in all his muscled glory. An approving grin when you finally click the name to the person as he saunters over to you.

“Hey.”

Your name sounds so tantalizingly sweet when it falls from his lips. A personal song you had, at one point, loved.

“Hey, yourself,” you smile.

He looks taller, if that’s even possible. Towering above you in his boots. Already a large figure appearing larger still with a bomber jacket straining over his clearly impressive arms.

“How you been?” You watch as his eyes flicker from your eyes to your chest and to your lips before settling back to your eyes. Cocky as ever and not an ounce of shyness at stumbling upon you after all this time.

“I’m, yeah. I’m good. Been doing real good. How - did you just get back?”

That has him looking down at the floor. His free hand rubbing at the back of his neck and you can’t help but wonder if you’ve hit the absolute worst subject for a returning soldier to encounter or not. 

“Yup. Few months back now. You know how it is.”

You don’t, actually. But that’s neither here nor there. So, you just nod in reply. Your own gaze getting lost on the unfamiliar beard framing his face. It makes him look older, more mature than the boy who had broken your heart.

He takes your silence in stride, filling the void quickly. “Getting used to it. Wondering when the hell they started making this,” he picks up a thing of churro cereal.

Examining the box for a moment, he laughs - all deep and rich like you remember. 

“Almost wanna try it for the novelty factor.”

Still a sweet tooth then.

“You should see some of the things they’ve got now.”

To make your point, you pull a Hershey Kisses cereal box from the bottom shelf.

It garners a shocked laugh from him, made worse when you read the calorie count.

“Guess just about anything can be a cereal these days.”

Sam contemplates that for a second before putting his box back and snatching the cereal from your hands instead, placing it in his near-empty basket.

You gape at him, recounting the days when he used to snatch suckers from your hand - wrapping his mouth around the slick purple bulb of sugar with a satisfied smirk, much to your shock. Something so stupidly childish and yet veering on sexual at the same time.

And then you’re both laughing.

He smiles at you, full-blown radiation of something that seems uncomfortably familiar in nature. 

“You look good, sugar,” is what he settles on. Which isn’t helpful in the slightest and it actually makes your breath catch in your throat.

There was a time when you used to hang on his every word - waiting for that sweet sweet nickname to be directed your way, all low and throaty. The dreams of a teenage girl.

“Not too bad yourself, Wilson.”

His eyes flash with a look that you can’t actually read and it really shouldn’t bother you that he’s become unreadable, even in the smallest of ways.

“So,” he draws out. “What’re you doing these days?”

Suddenly aware of the weight your own basket has, you place it down on the floor next to the shelf. Somehow expecting this conversation to continue its course here in the middle of the store, like very normal conversations do.

“Well, got my degree - ” he hums approvingly, your chest feels warm, “ - currently working in a clinic downtown. Work with some nonprofits on the side, you know.”

It feels good to ruffle your feathers, so to speak. To say _look what I’ve done, what I’ve accomplished after you went and left me_.

He smiles and it’s truly genuine, “That’s good. I’m happy for you, truly. Always knew you’d go on and do it. My girl had drive.”

 _My girl_. There’s a thought to spin around in your head for a few days. And he said it so heartfelt and warm and why is this happening here and now of all places? 

There it is, the soft smile on his face now. Making the angles of his jawline smooth out as his eyes stare longingly, almost like he’s reminiscing a long-lost moment. And then he clears his throat, eyes wandering to the shelves and the lighting and not you.

“Been a while,” it’s said nonchalantly, but you can feel the emotion lingering in the shadows of the words. Regret, is it? It’s only been ten years, three months, give or take a few days. But who’s counting? 

“Yeah,” you breathe out, trying to release all those nasty feelings from creeping up in the middle of the grocery store on a Friday afternoon.

Sam nods, still avoiding your gaze, “Yeah.”

The silent stretches taunt now, painful and sharp and memories of the past try to dig themselves free from the place you so carefully hid them away in.

“Well, I should… I should probably go. Let you get back to your shopping, you know.” Who cares how awkward the laugh sounds as you grab your basket from the floor. Already deciding to forgo your last few groceries in favor of the checkout line.

He says nothing. A quiet look on his face as he watches your internal chaos start to unravel. 

“It was good seeing you, Sam. Thank you, for, you know,” how many times had he been thanked for his service? Maybe you shouldn’t even mention it, but you’re backing up - trying to make a quick and moderately graceful escape.

And you almost manage to get past the oatmeal when your name brings you to a halt.

Sam strides forward, face determined, eyes blazing and a hint of… _nerves_ , playing out in the dark irises.

There’s a gap of breath as you both stand in front of each other, waiting for the words to fall.

He straightens his back, lips pressed firm.

“Dinner?”

You tilt your head, trying to understand and connect the words to a meaning deeper than the definition. Because, surely, he isn’t asking you to -

“Tonight? Right now?” he gives a shaky laugh, trying to play it off like it wouldn’t be a painful rejection if you said _no_.

And wouldn’t that be a sweet revenge of sorts, but he’s looking at you like he did once upon a time. But he’s older and he’s grown and he somehow is familiar and foreign all at once and why is it so hard to form a coherent thought?

“I…”

His dark eyes silently plead their case for him. And when were you ever able to not fall for that look on his face? It didn’t mean anything, anyway. Just two old friends catching up after life got in the way. No lingering feelings. None at all.

“Sure. Don’t have anything planned,” you concede with a playful shrug. “Guess I can write you in.”

That smile of his is the worst when it’s being directed at you. Because he knows - oh, he knows - what it does. Even after all this time. Like the full force of the sun is beaming its light right at you, unabashed.

You give him your number and he doesn’t hesitate to text you to ensure you’re not just playing games with him. If anything, his smile grows even wider when you show him the received message on your phone that reads _heyyy_. He types something quick before pocketing his phone.

And then there’s this pause where he’s looking you up and down and you’re feeling lighter than a feather and warmer than you should. Sam takes a step forward, basket on the floor now. And he’s leaning over you, all 6'2" of him.

You understand in an instant, letting him wrap his arms around you as you struggle to cover even a portion of his back with your hands. Looks like the service had done even more for his already built physique. 

The brim of his hat bumps against your shoulder, and you can tell he wants to pull you in closer - you just know it. But he settles for a ghosting kiss to your cheek instead, before he’s standing up and grabbing his basket like nothing out of the ordinary had just happened. 

You try to ignore the furious heat of your cheeks and the painful beating of your heart in your chest as you both head for the checkouts.

Scanning and bagging your items next to each other at the self-service lanes. Stealing looks and smiles as you both seem to rush through the process. Like there’s a secret only the two of you are in on. He waits, naturally, with his bags tied up in one hand, as you finish your order.

His free arm bumps against the curve of your shoulder as you walk through the exit and onto the street.

The cool air is a relief. The traffic and noise of the people on the sidewalk are enough of a distraction to calm your oddly alert senses.

And just as you’re about to ask Sam where and when he wants to meet, there’s a large warm hand cupping the curve of your jaw - fingers holding you firmly in place as he stares at you with a heated gaze. 

The words escape your grasp as he watches you, eyes flickering across your features as if he’s looking for confirmation of something. A thumb gently tugs at your lower lip and you’re helpless to stop the welcomed kiss that he presses against your lips.

Time pauses and resets to a school hallway, hidden behind the doorway of a closed classroom, and it’s too familiar and too easy to fall victim to the past. But it tastes so sweet. You press into the embrace, urging him on despite the grocery bags in your hands and the pedestrians having to sidestep you, because Sam Wilson is kissing you like he’s desperate and ready and more than willing to have this play out in the middle of a street in D.C. and like hell are you going to let this moment pass.

When he pulls away, with a final lingering kiss, and your eyes flutter open to the reality, he just smiles.

“I’ll text you, sugar.”

You nod, for lack of any functioning communication skills.

He smirks, as though he’s pleased with himself. Taking a step backward as he nods, enjoying the view apparently. A deep laugh follows before he moves right back and pulls you against his chest with a hand to your back.

This time, you hold him steady with a hand on his neck as you eagerly kiss and nip at his warm lips. 

It’s harder to part ways, both of you growing ragged for breath and more than a few people showing their distaste for the public display. But you only have eyes for each other.

“I… you text me and I’ll be there, okay?”

Do you look as much of a mess as you feel? Self-consciously, you smooth your hair back behind your ear. Desperately trying to steady your breathing.

Sam nods, unable to wipe the smile and warmly affectionate gaze from his face.

“Alright. I’ll be seeing you soon, baby girl.”

And if that isn’t enough to send your heart racing as you head home, then nothing ever will.

**Author's Note:**

> Cross-posted on my [Tumblr](https://ussgallifreyfics.tumblr.com).


End file.
